Howl
by therentyoupay
Summary: ANTHOLOGY. A collection of ficlets in honor of the struggles within Twilight, including thoughts of and interactions among Bella, Jacob and Edward. This will be a multi-ship outlet for the drabbles and ficlets that spring to my mind.
1. Bloodbourne, Unreq JacobBella, Angst

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Stephenie Meyer, indeed.

**Author's Notes:** This is a collection in honor of the struggles in the _Twilight_ series, with thoughts and interactions among Bella, Jacob and Edward. This will be an outlet for the drabbles and ficlets that spring to mind while completing _Final Request_, a Jacob/Bella & Edward/Bella one-shot that I've decided to continue. I originally considered adding _Bloodbourne_ to the next installment of _Final Request_, but decided against it.

The drabbles in _Howl _can each stand alone, but follow a relative pattern in exploring our couples' challenges.

The title of this collection is in honor of the song _Howl_ by Florence + The Machine, which I am becoming utterly obsessed with, and which screams out _Twilight_ in every line (Bella/Jacob, especially). It is the inspiration for my continuation of _Final Request_, and it was the inspiration for creating this multi-ship collection, as well.

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><p><strong>Bloodbourne<strong>

"Jacob, stop talking about it like it's a _disease_."

"Dammit, Bella, it _is_ a disease! You're going to _die_, Bella," he countered, cutting off her protest with a ferocious glare that made her blood run cold. "Your heart will stop beating. That precious blood of yours that your leech _loves_ so fucking much? Replaced and _infected_ with that venom shit—what part of any of that doesn't quite strike you the wrong way?"

"The part you keep leaving out about me being _reborn_," she argued stubbornly through gritted teeth. "God, Jake, don't you get it—I'm not ending my life; I'm starting a _new_ one."

Jacob looked at her hard. (_What was so wrong with the old one?)_

A new life, she'd said. A life tainted with blood, driven by the thirst for blood, created by the venom to be carried through her blood.

He saw her precious blood rush to her cheeks as she fumed silently, daring him to tell her off. She was beautiful.

(_What was _so_ wrong with the old one?)_

_No_, he thought_. I don't get it. I don't understand_.

He just hoped with all his heart that she knew what she was doing (_of course she didn't_), because when it all came crashing down (_and it would_), the blood would be on her hands, and her hands alone.

(_As if he could really believe that.)  
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><p><strong>End Note:<strong> This drabble was written after seeing the word "bloodbourne" in one of my psychology textbooks. 230 words.


	2. Born Again, JacobBella, AngstRomance

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Stephenie Meyer, indeed.

**Author's ****Notes:**_ 12/13/11._ This was written as a 15-minute flash!fic to Suzanne Ciani's _Sargasso__ Sea_ and rain soundscapes from **rainymood ****[dot] ****com**. "Rain makes everything better!"

**Pairing:** Jacob/Bella**  
>Genre:<strong> Angst/Romance**  
>Rating:<strong> T**  
>Word<strong>** Count:** 520**  
>For:<strong> _magic_knickers_  
><strong>Prompt:<strong> Sylvia Plath, "Mad Girl's Love Song"

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><p><strong>Born Again<strong>_  
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_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead._

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"Don't say it."

_I __wasn't __going __to_.

"Don't, Jacob. Please, just... don't."

He had not shifted, nor swallowed the lump in his throat, nor blinked, though his muscles twisted and ached... his instincts called for action, his heartstrings tugged with longing, and his upbringing called for comfort, yet he did not move.

_Was__ it __because __he __was __finally _man_ enough__ to __realize __the__ truth?_ Jacob wondered silently, eyes dark and clouded with bitterness and rain._ That__ you__ didn't__ deserve __to__ lose__ everything?_

_That __he__ didn't__ deserve_ you_?_

"It's happening again," she whispered, hollow, clutching her chest and soaked to the bone. But unlike a year ago—_a__ lifetime__ ago?_—Jacob did not gently tear her hands away from her heart, did not envelope them in his own, did not shield her from the downpour, did not look at her with the eyes of one who sees the world of reason and love and _life_ clearly beating and breathing in front of him.

And then a shallow, breathy, _lifeless_ laugh escaped her throat, and it tore across his skin like a thousand razors, shallow and swift enough to pretend not to notice, but still deep and layered and jagged enough to feel the burn.

"That is," she said, kneeling before him, staring blankly ahead. "If it ever happened at all."

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_(I think I made you up inside my head.)_

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He looked down at her, moved and unmoved as she crumpled at his feet, and felt his heart begin to mend even as his world continue to fall apart. The haunted dream of a lost world, a lost death, would never leave her eyes, and _his_ dream would never be real, would never be the same, but he could try, could be there... they could have each other in the little ways that counted—ways that might, that should matter—and until she was finally free enough to forget, and until he was strong enough to trust, they could both pretend that it'd be enough.

"It happened," he whispered, and she stiffened, startled, because it was the first time he'd spoken since he'd found her amidst the mossy fallen logs—dead and alive, all at once—and the swirling mist. "My soul would recognize that pain even fifteen lifetimes from now."

She moved as if she were going to look at him, to glance at his face, but at the last moment she paused, as if it were too much. Instead, she clutched the drenched fabric over her heart more tightly, and lowered her gaze further to his feet.

When she felt the hand on her shoulder, she did not start, did not shudder, but looked up into a pair of dark eyes level with hers, and was—_hollow, __numb, __lost_—surprised to find that she did not expect—_did__ not __wish?_—to find gold.

"But what's important," he whispered, and she tasted his promise in the air. "Is that it will never happen again."

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_I lift my lids and all is born again. _

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><p><strong>End<strong>** Note:** This flash!fic was written for magic_knickers as a gift, as part of my Holiday Requests post on LiveJournal. If you are interested in making a request, please check out my LiveJournal at **therentyoupay ****[dot] ****livejournal ****[dot] ****com**.


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